


Ramshackle Head

by milesheizclub



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25830256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milesheizclub/pseuds/milesheizclub
Summary: On a person's 18th birthday, their soulmark changes to the color of what kind of life their soul mate will bring them. What do you do when all you prepare for turns out to be everything you didn't expect?- or -Alex is resigned to a life of being mateless, and things have to change.*title from John My Beloved by Sufjan Stevens*
Relationships: Alex Standall/Winston Williams, Charlie St. George/Alex Standall, Zach Dempsey & Alex Standall
Comments: 34
Kudos: 71





	1. Before The Mystery Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, as usual.
> 
> Very quick headcanon because the show really fucking butchered ages and timelines:
> 
> Story starts on March 15, 2018
> 
> \- Alex still attempted, he did so during break, didn’t have to repeat a year, injuries not as severe so he didn’t have as much of a recovery process  
> \- Hannah is still dead  
> \- Bryce is still dead  
> \- Monty is still dead  
> \- Justin is NOT dead  
> \- Alex is 18, Charlie is 17 (Alex is a senior, Charlie is a junior *edit: I wrongly stated previously that they were a junior and a sophomore respectively.)
> 
> Inspired by many different soulmate tropes lmao.

Another wind-knocking blow to the gut – another sign that maybe it should’ve ended for him last year, and that he shouldn’t have even been around anymore. There was nothing to look forward to, nothing waiting for him. At least that’s what the events of the early morning seemed to mean for him.

Alex walked into school by second period that day, a little more distraught by the earlier discovery than he thought he’d be. He took his usual seat beside Zach’s chair with a tired huff as he plopped down after a half-hearted scolding directed at him once he entered the room and a mumbled apology.

Zach’s obnoxious grin came into his line of vision after a couple of minutes, the boy expecting Alex to humor him and spill. “Happy birthday,” he whispered through his teeth, doing that annoying Z-Man elbow nudge with only the teasing, slinky lilt of his voice. Alex raised his eyebrows in thanks, the straight line of his mouth still firmly intact, and Zach scrunched his face, accepting the challenge.

He dragged his chair right up next to Alex, the feet screeching loudly across the classroom floor, earning more disapproval from Mr. Orman, and Zach explained it off as ‘needing to help Alex.’

“Happy _eighteenth_ birthday…” Zach said, letting the silence do the nudging for him. Alex rolled his eyes in return, less in annoyance than in frustration and absolute _hurt_. He looked over at Zach’s smiling, expectant face, and he brought his hand to his right jacket sleeve, lifting it up to reveal the very-much-skin-toned design on his wrist. Zach’s eyes grew as he stared at it, and Alex quickly shoved his sleeve back down.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Alex said, heat climbing up his neck to his cheeks, and he started fiddling the edge of his table. The shame had almost consumed him right at that moment, but he’d only let it show through the flush that spread across the skin on his face and the betrayal in his eyes. Zach didn’t dare move or talk, staying only to monitor. It was only when Mr. Orman gave another pointed clearing of his throat that Zach conceded and scooted his chair back to its regular place, but never once breaking from observing his best friend.

Alex didn’t quite understand. He’d heard that it might happen, but everyone had always said that it was so rare – practically _unheard of_ \- that he’d never had any reason to second-guess it. The only question anyone ever considered was what color their marks would be once they turned eighteen.

Through the first half of the period, all Alex could do was to ruefully stare at his mark, lightly tracing his finger over the raised skin again and again. If he squinted, he could see the embossed skin twirling around his wrist and creeping up the back of his hand and up his palm like a glove of vines and small, lush leaves. Over the years, he’d imagined it in all different colors, and the kind of lives they would bring with them – the dark purple of wealth and nobility, or the blood red of fire, passion, _courage_ , or the balance and, finally, _peace_ of a hue of green or blue that could finally ease the constant anxiety that had found a home in Alex’ chest. He couldn’t help it.

It was actually never something that he looked forward to until recently. It had never been something he even particularly wanted. He almost loathed it – the idea of being predestined, of belonging to someone or someone belonging to him, no choice, rhyme, or reason. But after everything that happened within the past couple of years, after almost not being here for this day, it’d been something to hold on to, maybe even look forward to.

Alas, no dice.

Alex hadn’t noticed at first when his hands started to tense, but his fingernails began to dig harder into his mark, and he’d shaken himself out of his trance long enough to stop before breaking skin. He stared at the portions of his wrist where flat met raised and the dashes of dipped skin that were made from his insistent nails which caused violent itches and made Alex want to reach and scratch. The tenseness transferred to tight, tight grips on the sides of his table, knuckles turning a dangerous pale, beads of steaming sweat trekking from his scalp down to his temples, red hot cheeks, grinding gritted teeth, blown out beady pupils and eyes getting drier by the second but he couldn’t seem to blink them shut. He whipped his head with raised eyebrows to Zach, whose attention was caught immediately by the sudden movement, and Zach, momentarily paralyzed by the look of complete terror on his friend’s face, shot his hand straight into the air and shouted at their teacher.

“Mr. Orman,” he rushed, “Alex is a fucking tomato, and I’m taking him to the nurse’s office.” Tears began to spring in Alex’ eyes as Zach moved swiftly, commoting and practically knocking his chair over getting both his and Alex’ bags and dragging his friend off of his chair. “Alex you need to come with me, okay?” he said, and Alex could only nod in return, his jaw wired tight, and they made their way through the worried faces of their classmates and out of the room.

-

The two, of course, did not go to the nurse’s office and instead ran to Zach’s car, They both understood by now that whenever Alex got worked up just like this, he needed someone to be right there for him, but at the same time he needed to be left alone. It hadn’t happened in a while, but their procedure was complete muscle memory at that point – Alex in the passenger’s seat and the speakers playing Alex’ current flavor of the month, Zach simply keeping his cool in the driver’s seat while waiting for the attack to subside and for Alex to calm down.

Alex reached to turn the music off a few minutes later, feeling too low and proceeding to recline his seat, his head suddenly feather light and his body fighting the urge to take a quick nap.

“To be honest,” Zach said, reclining his chair along with him, “I didn’t think you’d be so affected by something like this.”

“I didn’t think I would be either,” Alex replied. He sighed and gave the car door beside him a weak punch and started thumping out a soft rhythm against the leather padding.

“But I guess I’m more shocked that this even happened,” Zack continued, “like… what the fuck is that about? Like what does it even mean?”

“It means they’re probably dead already. Or they aren’t even born yet. But most likely dead.” Alex flashed back to earlier that day, to his parents with him at the dining table in the dark of the morning, readied with an ice pack and a stress ball, the excitement and anticipation in their faces slowly turning to confusion and disbelief when the burning sensation his mom always warned him about never came and the wait for his mark to reveal its color turned fruitless. They’d been optimistic – convincing themselves that the time on Alex’ birth certificate had been off, and that maybe they were off for as much as half an hour.

No one knew quite what to do other than wait, and Alex finally decided to call it a night and left for bed with a broken voice, the most dejected his parents had seen him in almost two years. And as much as he tried, Alex had not gone to sleep, the dark feeling in the pit of his chest pushing him down a Reddit thread spiral of memoirs, personal accounts, and support groups by people whose marks had never turned and whose soul mates they’d never met. The more he scrolled through the stories, the sweatier his fingertips got while swiping at his phone screen which grew increasingly hot with relentless use, and the colder his blood turned.

“Fuck, I have no idea what to say,” Zach said with a sigh and a slide of his fingers through his hair. “It can’t be some kind of fluke? Like maybe all this time we got your birthday wrong and it’s actually next year or something? Or maybe this really is the color of your mark! Has it ever just been bone white before? I mean it could happen, right? Or what if it’s some kind of weird Mayan thing like how they got 2012 wrong or whatev-“

“Stop, please,” Alex said, defeated. Zach huffed and brought his seat back up, wanting to say more, but ultimately giving Alex his time. “You know those points in your life when you tell yourself, ‘well this might as well happen?’” His lips curled up with a menace. It was an expression Zach had been all too familiar with, and it never failed to scare him, knowing what Alex was capable of doing, to others, sure, but mostly to himself. “I’m just trying to keep myself the fuck together and make my peace with this.”

Zach looked on at him in pity, Alex’ eyes still fixated on the black leather lining of the car’s ceiling, so pristine he could almost make out his reflection on it – that of sad, tired eyes and resignation. But he decided it was better that he couldn’t, tired of looking at himself and determining what else could be different, what about himself should and shouldn’t change.

Alex felt his eyes start to drift closed but he was jolted awake by the sound of a starting car and the gravity beneath him suddenly shifting. He pulled the lever from off to the side and his seat immediately shot up to the sight of Zach driving out of the Liberty High parking lot, and quickly gaining speed.

“Um, what the hell are you doing?” Alex asked, pulling his seatbelt across himself.

“Well, it’s still your eighteenth birthday, Standall, and I sure as hell am not gonna let you drown in all this bullshit that’s happening to you because you’re better than some fucking mark on your wrist and some piece of shit dead person who’s missing out on a great guy. So I’m treating you to the best goddamn burger you’ve ever had in your fucking life, and we’re gonna make today a fucking fantastic day for you, okay?” By the way he impassioned his speech with the steely focus in his eyes, Alex would have thought he was driving 80 miles per hour. But it brought a smile to his face, however small it may have been. “Text Tyler and Charlie, too, tell them to meet us.”

“We can’t just skip class, Zach,” Alex said, grabbing his phone anyway and quickly texting the two.

“We’ll be back by the time lunch ends, I’m not _dumb_.”

“You’re _kind of_ dumb, let’s be real,” Alex said, chuckling. Zach seemed pleased with this development and eased his pressure on the gas pedal.

He got a reply from Charlie almost instantly with a series of emojis that vaguely resembled affirmation and what Alex presumed to be a joke about Tyler being dragged along on a leash. It sent calm so quickly through Alex’ chest that he could feel his eyelids swiftly start to betray him. _Looking forward to it_ , he finally settled on replying, his lazy fingers having to retype more than once.

“I think soul mates are overrated anyway,” Zach said. “They could’ve just been a waste of time for you, don’t worry Lex.”

 _I didn’t deserve one anyway_ , Alex thought. He looked over to where Zach’s hands gripped on the steering wheel and admired the design on Zach’s right wrist, a simple red bracelet of thick, dashed lines. He thought about the amazing person who’d eventually get to share his soul and who that might be. He recalled the one point in his life when he could’ve sworn he knew exactly who it was, and decided he was much too tired at that moment to fight the urge to just _admit_ that –

“You know, for a second there I thought it might be you.”

Zach didn’t respond at first, and Alex leaned back, lowering his backrest once again.

He kept his eyes closed, feeling the slight nausea coming back, not used to being in this position with the motion of the car and the lack of music. He kept his silence again, taking the opportunity to berate himself, not for confessing, but for burdening Zach with the responsibility of having to tread lightly and say the right thing in fear of anything happening. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” Alex said. “Please don’t think about it anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Zach said without missing a beat.

If Alex had been honest with himself, he’d known all along that it could’ve never been Zach who was meant for him. Zach was much too loyal of a friend, and Alex had only been too lonely. Again, he repeated to himself, he was a burden, a responsibility. And Alex’ truth was that Zach was much too full of life for the decaying shell that Alex had become. He was much too unhinged for Alex to just... bring him down and hold him back.

What kind of soul mate was Alex expecting then? Was it someone who would bring him back up from six feet under, someone he’d never accept, for their sake? Or was it someone who was as much of a disaster as him, someone to share the casket? Maybe that’s what the world thought he deserved in this life.


	2. White Feathered Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex celebrates his birthday with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd, as usual. I'm finishing this chapter up at 8 in the morning so please bear with any typos or grammatical errors I've missed.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_The dark circles around Alex’ eyes seemed to intensify under the dimness of the dining room, and in this light, his pale skin felt grayer and grayer as the minute went on. 3:54 now._

_“I don’t understand, it should’ve started at 3:53 sharp, right?” Alex asked, his eyebrows furrowed so aggressively._

_“The timestamp is just a guide sometimes, it varies for different people,” Carolyn said, her voice soothing and confident. Strong. “We get these cases all the time over at the hospital. People make ten-minute appointments all the time so we can help them with the burning, only for the color shift to happen too early or too late. The energy isn’t perfect. You just gotta be patient with it, okay, honey?”_

_Alex turned to his father, who was unmistakeably much worse at concealing his emotions than his mother, and he looked every bit as perturbed as Alex did. Bill tried to smile upon seeing Alex staring at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and Alex decided to turn his focus back on his unshifted mark._

_3:55._

_He began to believe it. It was either of two things: that he was meant for the earth, to be a vagabond or a gypsy, a bohemian, and lead a life that brought him closer to the land and the sea, to his music, to God, away from the baggage of human relationship, or, he was too fucked up to have earned the other half of his soul - that he’d done too much and been deemed too dishonorable, too immoral to even be considered someone who’d make someone’s life better. Or whole._

_4:06_

_The crickets had grown louder through the ringing silence in the room. It had drowned out the quickening pace of Alex’ heart, thankfully, but his eyes would soon betray his desperation. He looked to his parents, shifting his gaze between them so slowly that neither of them could tell if Alex would even listen if they told him anything now, and his stillness did well to unnerve his parents, getting Carolyn’s grip on the cold pack to stiffen, and Bill to get antsy in his seat right across the table from his son._

_“Listen kid, that day was the most stressful day for all of us,” Bill said. “Your mom’s water broke during a shift, then we were in the hospital for over a day, and then she was in active labor for god knows how long, I don’t even remember. It felt like we were all awake for two days. Everyone looked god-awful and tired, none of us saw the light of day.” Alex hadn’t responded. His focus was trained somewhere past him when he chose to look in Bill’s direction, the dull glimmer in his eye slowly fading.. “Any number of things could’ve gone wrong, kiddo. But it’ll come, okay bud?”_

_Alex’ eyes shifted from desperation to resolution right in front of Bill, and he watched along as his son looked back at his pale mark, weakly closing his fist as if the muscles there could jolt it awake, only for the mark to remain unchanged, and Alex released his hand with a sigh. He was looking for answers, but he had given up on getting them._

_“Oh honey,” Carolyn said sweetly, lifting her hand up to Alex’ cheek, “It’ll come, don’t you worry.”_

-

The food truck had stationed at a far away enough park that they were confident they wouldn’t be caught by anyone from Liberty. It looked old and greasy, but Alex couldn’t deny that the food looked like venial sin on a plate.

Zach had ordered two burgers, the first of which had disappeared in a record three minutes, much to the concern of his friends who had barely gotten in two bites each of their own meals. He chugged down half his giant orange soda and popped the cap off the paper cup in one practiced motion, then reached into his jacket pocket, bringing out a familiar silver flask, and unscrewed it. The other boys exchanged looks between them as Zach lifted the flask up into the air in the middle of the table.

“A toast! The happiest fucking birthday to Alexander Dean Standall,” Zach said loudly enough that it caught the attention of most of the diners nearby and left Alex to hide behind his hands. “You’re eighteen now. My man’s a… a _man_ now! So what if you don’t have a soul mate, you never needed one anyway! You’re a strong, independent, well, white man, and you don’t need no man! Or woman! Or, you know, gender non-binary lover. Because _fuck_ soul mates, you’ve got the rest of your life to live! Amen!” He then began to empty the contents of his flask into his soda cup, putting the lid back on, and then taking a few forceful sips of the new mixture before slamming the empty cup back down on to the table with a smack.

Once he had come back down from his soliloquy, he’d looked back at the boys to find Alex staring at him with mortified eyes, and Charlie and Tyler looking back at Alex with fluster and confusion.

“Zach,” escaped Alex’ lips moments later, but only in a broken whisper, and it was as if Zach had immediately sobered up. “What the f-“

“Zach, can I get your help please?” Charlie interrupted with a commanding tone, grabbing Zach’s arm and lifting him as they both stood,. “I can tell we’re gonna need more fries for the table, come on.” Charlie looked to check on Alex one last time before leaving the table with Zach, who agreed reluctantly. Alex gave him a small, but grateful smile which Charlie eagerly returned.

Once they were left alone, Alex couldn’t even look at Tyler. And the quiet that followed didn’t particularly please Alex. It was as if everyone had been walking on eggshells around him, and he absolutely hated how nobody could seem to just talk to him. To ask him.

This thought, however, was immediately contradicted when Tyler lifted his burger to his mouth, and before he took a bite, asked, “So… what did Zach mean by… all that?” He immediately stuffed his face, and Alex rolled his eyes, but Tyler’s effort tugged his cheeks into a smile anyway.

Alex took a deep breath and lifted his sleeve to reveal his mark to Tyler, and the second Tyler saw it and its color, he choked on his food. Coughing in a fit of shock, he spit the food back out into a napkin and took a few seconds to compose himself before acknowledging the gesture with a timid, “oh,” and a few more seconds before the follow-up, “I’m sorry.” Alex shook his head.

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply. “It’s my fault.” He took a sip of his drink and missed the expression of vehement disagreement on Tyler’s face.

“What do you mean it’s your fault?” Alex looked up, surprised by the question.

“Oh, I think it’s… kind of obvious. Don’t you? You’ve been there for basically everything, Ty. It seems to me, Karma had its way with me, has seen all the stuff I’ve gone through, the stuff I’ve done, and honestly? I think it’s right. And I… totally fucking deserve this, so there. It’s my fault. And, I’ll just learn to live with it, I guess.”

He tried his best to act unaffected, to pass it off as a trivial, inconsequential thing, and almost thought he’d sold the sentiment until Tyler threw up his camera and snapped a photo of Alex, the loud shutter giving him away. Tyler looked down at the viewfinder, amused, turning the camera to show Alex. The boy was seen staring at his food, and yet his eyes had been glazed over, his focus clearly scattered and blurred.

“I call it Stage One,” Tyler said.

“Stage One?”

“You know, of grief,” he said, smiling smugly. “Denial,” he clarified, and earned a light punch in the arm from Alex, his eyes brightening up, out of the haze immediately.

“Fuck you,” Alex said through his chuckles. “When did you become such an asshole?” he asked with a smile, and Tyler looked quite proud of himself. Tyler just shrugged and kept his camera right back in his bag, its purpose for this lunch evidently fulfilled.

The two returned to their burgers, Alex, for the first time, actually revelling in his bite of food and closing his eyes. “God, this is good,” he groaned. “At least I’ll get to kill my diet for the day. I’ve missed all this.” He quickly stuffed a fry in his mouth, and his eyes lolled back into his head. “Holy shit, how is this thing this good?”

“You’re in the moment, I don’t know.” Tyler shrugged. And Alex was sure it was one of those off-handed comments that Tyler indulged in every now and then, but it had hit a little too close to Alex nonetheless. He’d spent the last 9 hours of his life brooding over what he felt he lost. It was a tough pill to swallow, of course, but with a spoonful of honey, and maybe a burger and some home fries, it was certainly a little easier to take.

It seemed fitting then, at the moment, that Charlie came back with a huge grin and a big tray of fresh-out-of-the-oil fries and a sheepish looking Zach in tow closely behind him. The two sat down, and Zach guiltily peered up at Alex through stray locks of hair, mouthing “I’m sorry,” which Alex readily waved off, acknowledging the apology with a tilt of his head, and the four went back to eating, with Zach getting back to ravenously scarfing down his second burger.

-

“SURPRISE!” The group shouted once he entered through the door of Clay and Justin’s little backyard apartment later that evening. Alex was, as expected, not surprised in the slightest, but the smile on his face was a surprise to everyone else. He was bombarded with loud birthday greetings and compliments on his appearance, hugs going all around and him being pulled straight to the candlelit cake in the middle of the room.

“Make a wish,” Jessica cheerily said, hugging him from behind. “And make it good because they say the soul energy works best on your 18th to manifest what you wish for.”

He looked around him, the rest of the group huddled around the table with phones lifted and ready to film, and faces a little too close for comfort. He thought for a second while he stared at the tiny flames in front of him. _I’m alive with one thing on mind right now, but it feels pretty useless, doesn’t it? Do I even want anything else that much?_ It felt like too much of a waste to wish for good fortune, or good health, or a good life. Too vague, yet it felt equally weird to wish for anything for someone else, this being the only day he thought he deserved to be even a little selfish. He could get away with a little wish.

It didn’t escape everybody’s notice that Alex was taking his time with this, and they turned off their cameras and kept their phones one at a time, all of this much to Alex’ dismay. He then felt the light touch of a hand wrap around his arm, and he turned to see that Charlie had found his way to his side.

“Hey, just whatever you feel,” he said, smiling encouragingly. “You can wish for whatever you could possibly want.” Charlie never failed to fill Alex with an overwhelming sense of calm. His cheeks tinged at the closeness of him, and his eyes started to glisten, turning back to the cake. _Why the fuck not?_

He took in a big gulp of air and blew all the candles in one fell swoop, earning whoops and cheers from his friends and a squeeze of his arm.

The little gathering of cake, party food, and casual conversation had turned into a full on rager some time during the night. Alex attributed it to the borderline morose beginning of it, and his friends must’ve taken the mood as personal challenges. Slowly but surely the music grew louder, the table was pushed to the side of the room in favor of a dance floor, and the soda corner suddenly had bottles of liquor and beer, care of Zach, Alex suspected.

Alex sat in the corner of the room with cake in hand to observe for a bit, speaking with Clay (who had historically been just as awkward at parties, if not even more than him), until Zach bounded over with a red solo cup shoved in front of his face.

“For you,” Zach yelled above the music and noise. Alex eyed the cup suspiciously. “Your very own A-Man Rocks!”

Alex’ face immediately scrunched up in disgust, knowing full and well about the kind of seedy, toxic scum Zach was able to concoct in a disposable plastic cup. The thought on its own nearly brought Alex to gag.

“Oh calm down, it’s just a rum coke,” Zach said, offended, forcing the cup into his hands. “Now come on, your ex is waiting for a dance with you.” Without warning, he lifted Alex by the elbow up to his feet and dragged him to Jessica who greeted him with an elated yell and open arms.

To everyone’s delight, Alex had joined them through it all – the dancing, the drinking, the drinking _games_ involving some unattached making out with blurred faces, and hollering in a cacophony of noise that would most likely ellicit complaints from the neighbors and headaches for the Jensens. He found that it felt like an escape, and that was something so horribly rare to find between him and his friends. So he basked in the feeling of losing himself, of the lightness he experienced in being around people he cared about, in dancing recklessly, in kissing someone who didn’t need to matter to him in any specific way. He liked getting carried away in the heat of the moment.

And yet, nature be damned, he would catch himself looking for those connections with every kiss, with every sip and refill of his A-Man Rocks, and with every step to the beat that brought him closer to speckled skin and warm breath. It was when, drunk on his sixth full cup, he started to dance too closely to Charlie, tall, infectiously warm Charlie, that he fully recognized he had found himself again, and had woken up in all of his obsessively lonely glory. This close to Charlie, the rest of the dancers on the floor closing in on him quickly, and hearing the music slowly warp into something he _knew_ it actually wasn’t, he needed to slip away. He finessed himself through the floor, and weaving himself through the small sea of his friends that he made sure were too preoccupied to notice him quietly walking out the door. Finally, he took a breath of the cold night air, resolving that he’d been holding it in for hours, and fell to the floor bringing his knees up to his chest.

-

The music spilled out of the open door a while later before quickly disappearing once again. Alex hadn’t noticed the first time whoever had just come out tried to get his attention as he sat on the grass in his sobering state,. It was only when he saw a pair of sneakers over blue poodle-patterned socks that he heard, “Alex?”

He slowly looked up at Charlie, whose face etched with worry upon looking at his blank expression. “You okay?” Charlie asked. “I haven’t seen you for like… half an hour or something.”

“’m kinda drunk,” he replied, murmuring low. “And I needed to… step out. Catch my breath and stuff.” He rubbed aggressively at his nose, the cold of the late evening air filling it and turning it a bright pink.

“Did something happen?” Charlie knelt on the ground in front of him, his hands landing on Alex’ knees, and Alex realized that he had stayed seated in the same position the whole time he was outside.

“I think… I think I started to hear voices in the music.” He brought his hand up subconsciously, and scratched the side of his head. “It kinda freaked me out.”

“It’s the TBI, right?” Charlie said softly, putting pieces together. “Like… you get autocratic hallucinations?”

“Auditory,” he corrected, a defensiveness in his voice, and he swiftly brought his hand back down at the mention of his injury. “How’d you know about that?”

“Oh, I just read about it a while back,” Charlie explained, speaking cautiously. “I just wanted to understand it more, like, what you were going through.”

“Oh, yeah…” Alex looked back, disappointed. “I’m a freak,” he said under his breath, and Charlie looked immediately taken aback, his hands lightly squeezing where they rest on his knees.

“No…” Charlie whispered. “Just… no.” He turned his palms up and offered them to Alex, who returned the gesture with a look of pure skepticism. Just a while before, he was making out with half his friends, and suddenly the concept of holding someone’s hand seemed preposterous. “Oh, come on, they’re not gonna bite,” Charlie teased.

Alex hesitated, but took them one by one. The pads of his palms buzzed at the touch, and he concentrated on the feeling of Charlie’s skin against his. His hands were a little sweaty, but they were still just _so warm_. It felt as if his blood flowed in through his hands right into the rest of his body, and it baffled Alex how much these little gestures of his did so much to ease him and his mind. Alex squeezed back, and it brought a smile to Charlie’s face which Alex returned with a relaxed sigh, the muffled sounds of the continuing music filling the air.

He looked at their clasped hands, and it was the first time he paid attention to Charlie’s soul mark. A thin line so perfectly wild and jagged with strokes of all lengths, Alex thought back to his long, excruciating time in the hospital, the beeping heart monitor echoing throughout the small, sterile room, even in the darkness. Just like this. The color of his mark hadn’t shifted, of course, because Charlie was still 17. But Alex couldn’t help but imagine what it could look like, and just how goddamn lucky Charlie’s soul mate was.

“Do they all know?” Alex asked after a few moments, and Charlie’s lips trained to a straight line.

“Zach told us,” he said. “He sat everyone down and told us to not talk about it tonight.”

Alex nodded, and squeezed again.

“Thank you guys for taking care of me,” he said, eveidently uncomfortable and averting his eyes from Charlie’s. “You’ve rescued me more than once today. You don’t have to do that, but thank you.”

“Hey,” Charlie said, lowering his head to catch Alex’ gaze again. “Absolutely any time.”

“I think I wanna go home,” Alex told him quietly, his mood slowly dropping in once more after letting it disappear for a few moments.

“I can bring you,” Charlie replied, determined.

“You don’t have to d-,”

“I’d like to, very much.” Charlie reassured. “Dad’s expecting me back home soon anyway.” He released his hands, and Alex immediately missed the comfort he received from them, bringing his hands back tucked in between his legs and willing them to warm back up on their own.

“I’ll just go back inside to tell Zach, then we can go, okay?”

-

He tiptoed back in through the front door, but not stealthily enough it turned out, his mother summoning him from the dining room. He surrendered, walking in with his head hanging low, and turned the corner, surprised to see all the lights turned on with his mother seated at the table in a robe with a half-empty coffee cup and her laptop plugged in.

“Mom? Do you have an early shift today?” he asked, eyes adjusting to the light.

“No honey, I’m just… researching,” she said with a tired smile. “Did you have fun tonight?” Alex walked over to her side of the table and kissed her cheek.

“Yeah it was good. What are you researching?” he asked, trying to peer at her screen.

“Um, well,” she angled the laptop to him, “about you actually.” Alex’ eyes widened, and Carolyn’s voice picked up in volume slightly. “I’m finding a lot of stuff about cases of late-bloomers. Apparently these cases are more common than I thought, and there are a lot of explanations for it that are health related, and I figured we could go take a look togeth-,”

“I’m sorry mom,” Alex interrupted with a hand on her shoulder and a sad shake of his head. “Thanks for this, but I think I’m just too tired right now to think about that. It… really messed me up today,” he admitted. Carolyn immediately conceded, closing the laptop.

“Of course, honey, I’m sorry,” she said.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he assured. “I’ll talk to you about it soon, I promise. I just can’t do that right now.”

Carolyn lifted up her hand to pat his. “Take your time. Talk to me whenever you want to, alright?” Alex nodded. “I love you,” she said, turning to him to caress his cheek, and Alex closed his eyes at the touch.

“Love you too, mom.”

The second Alex entered the threshold of his bedroom, he threw his shoes off and he plopped down onto his bed with a huff, refusing to remove any of the rest of his clothes. He adjusted his position over the sheets, and he couldn’t find the spot that felt just right. The bed felt more empty than it normally did, and Alex grunted in frustration, his mind racing and refusing to let him sleep.

He didn’t want to be alone. The idea of being predestined, of people belonging to other people, and yet, of all people, it was he who didn’t belong to anyone - it was all he could latch on to.

He looked out the window to the dark sky, the moon nowhere in sight, and decided, well, it was late enough to wait for it. And he had to know. So he whipped out his phone, and waited out the minutes.

3:53. _3:54_. And nothing once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review! Reviews are tummy rubs and head pets. <3
> 
> Let's see if I can keep up with a multi-chapter fic ;)


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